“Yes,” he said, his throat closed so tightly he could barely squeeze out the word. “We are.”
She was silent for a long time. Then he saw – even though he couldn’t see – something shift inside her. Sensed something halt, and back up. She looked off, took a deep breath, and lifted her gaze to his again. And when she did, the connection was gone. Gone so completely that he had to wonder if it had ever really been there at all.
It was 9:30 p.m., eighty-five degrees outside, and the night air chilled his skin when she stood, turned away, and said over her shoulder, “Okay, let’s do it.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The room inside was filling up when they came back in, a sea of cowboy hats and big hair. Luke surveyed the room with satisfaction. He saw many familiar faces, but some strangers, too, which meant the money they’d spent to advertise Rain Fest in the surrounding areas was paying off.
He looked at Dusty, who had one eye on the crowd while giving the stage a last going-over, too. She gave the band a two-minute warning. The jukebox played, but wasn’t loud enough to be more than a faint tune under the crowd. Dusty had decided earlier that they’d launch into a fast song and then she’d introduce them, rather than having Rodney come up and do it.
When it was clear they were as ready as they were going to be, Dusty nodded to Rodney across the crowded dance floor. He unplugged the jukebox.
Dusty counted them off, and they launched like a top into “Whiskey River.”
It was liquid magic, Luke thought. The adrenalin pumped through the band as if they were one body.
Dusty opened her mouth and that voice – that powerful, smoky, sexy voice – came out, and he knew immediately they had the crowd hooked. By the end of the first verse, every eye in the house was on Dusty. Luke looked down at Corinne and Becca, who were stared drop-jawed at her. Toby elbowed Corinne and mouthed, “See. I told you.”
Luke couldn’t help but grin. He’d played this bar more times than he could count, but they’d never sounded this good. He looked back at Stevie, who looked utterly stupefied with satisfaction.
By the end of “Whiskey River,” they had the crowd’s attention. She had their attention. When the last note sounded, a whoop went up, and Luke heard no less than three declarations of love from rowdy cowboys.
“Thank you,” Dusty said when she could finally be heard. “Thanks so much. I’m Dusty Rhodes, and this, of course, is the talented and infamous Black Horse Band.” Again the crowd whooped, and Luke watched with inexplicable pride as Dusty visibly relaxed. She smiled and nodded to the crowd, comfortable and easy, as if they were just a few friends in her living room, rather than a crowded bar full of strangers. “Aren’t they great? It’s a pleasure to work with such talented musicians.” She adjusted her guitar strap. “And it’s a pleasure to see all of you turning out for the First Annual Aloma Rain Fest. It’s good of you to come out in this heat.” She turned to Luke and gave a barely perceptible nod.
As they’d rehearsed earlier, he stepped up to the mike to do his spiel. “We are thrilled to have such a turnout on our first night. We have great shows lined up for tonight and tomorrow night, and you’ll want to come back next weekend, too. Tumbleweeds has generously agreed to donate a portion of the proceeds from the door and from the bar to the Rain Fest collection. So drink up!”
The crowd roared and Dusty counted them down to the next song. The dance floor filled immediately, and Luke settled into the energy that flowed through the room. He watched Dusty as she sang, feeling an odd sense of de ja vu. Not as if he’d been here before but as if, now that he was here, he’d always known he would be. His fingers moved over the strings of his guitar automatically, the rhythm of the bass beating in time with his heartbeat. But the rest of him was taken up with watching Dusty. Her throat muscles working as she sang, her lips gliding over the words, her hair swinging in a sheet of gold down her back as she moved.
Some people were born to be on stage. Luke knew that, and knew that though he did his best and wasn’t half bad in public, he wasn’t one of them. Dusty was. She kept the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand, conveying an easy, intimate attitude that said they were all friends. She kept a short but steady stream of banter going in between songs, calling a few of the townspeople by name, keeping them engaged, and making that connection between the stage and the crowd that was so crucial.
This was her home, he realized. Monday night when they’d first danced, she’d said the road was her home. But she was wrong. The stage was her home.
They flew through the first set like they’d been playing together for years. Luke could feel the high spirits of the rest of the band, could see it in the smiles on their faces and hear it in the confidence with which they played. When Dusty announced the last song of the set, the air of triumph they all felt was palpable.
Before she could count them down to the last song, Luke leaned into his microphone. “I have another idea.”
Dusty turned to him and cocked a brow, and there was no mistaking the warning in her eye. “You have another idea?”
“Yeah. Just a spur of the moment thing, but I was just looking at you and was struck by inspiration. Do you know that old Bellamy Brothers song, ‘If I Said You Had a Beautiful Body, Would You Hold It Against Me?’ ”
The crowd laughed, and a guy in the back yelled, “Yeah!”
Dusty tucked her tongue in her cheek and looked at Luke. Luke lifted his brows innocently.
“Sorry,” she said. “Don’t know that one.” She turned back to count off the song from the list.
“How about that newer one, ‘There Ain’t Nothing About You That Don’t Do Something For Me.’ Do you know that one?”
The crowd roared. “Get her, Deputy!” someone yelled.
Dusty took a deep breath and remained stone-faced, but he could see she was fighting back a smile. “Don’t know that one, either. But you know, now that I take a little closer look at you, I’m reminded of a song, myself. Do you know that old Mel Tillis song, ‘You’re Just a Coca-Cola Cowboy’?”
This got the biggest laugh yet. The same voice that had yelled for him to get her, now yelled, “Oooh, burn!”
Luke laughed, and leaned into the microphone. “How about that Mary Chapin Carpenter song, ‘I Feel Lucky.’ Know that one?”
“The only Mary Chapin Carpenter song I know is called ‘Maybe Not Tonight’.”
She was losing her fight with the smile now, as glad as he was to be entertaining the crowd. She’d probably still chew him out during break, but that was okay. It was worth it.
“There’s another song I’d like to learn, I think it’s called ‘Don’t Make Me Beg.’ Do you know who does that one, by any chance?”
The crowd ‘ahh’ed like he was a lost puppy, and Dusty rolled her eyes. “Don’t know that one, either.”
Luke nodded. “I didn’t think so.” He adjusted the strap on his guitar, and nodded for her to continue with the set as planned. But as she opened her mouth to count them down, he interrupted again. “Say, I know. There’s a Shania Twain number I’ll bet you’d do a great job on. It’s called ‘I Lost My Heart When I Found You.’”
Dusty nodded her head. “I know that one. I never did like it.”
Luke hung his head, acting crestfallen, and the crowd ahhed again.
“I prefer that Eagles one, ‘Get Over It,’” Dusty said, and the crowd laughed.
Luke grinned and said, “Okay, if you don’t know this one, I’m giving up. It’s an old song from the Urban Cowboy soundtrack by Johnny Lee. It’s called ‘Looking for Love.’”
Dusty’s brows rose and she nodded. “Hey, I do know that one, actually.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, isn’t that the one about the guy looking for love in all the wrong places?”
The crowd whooped, and finally Dusty counted them down to the song they were supposed to play. Halfway through it, she tilted her head and her eyes met his, twinkling with humor, and Luke got a glimpse of what thi
ngs were going to be like between them, later tonight.
Life was good, he decided. Life was just pretty damned good.
When the song ended, she lifted her guitar strap over her head. “We’re taking a fifteen minute break. Keep dancing, stick around for the next set, and don’t forget to take care of your bartender and your waitress.”
She made her way through the crowd, accepting compliments and rebuffing advances with equal grace. She reached the bar just before Luke did.
He smiled like an idiot in love, taking in the sweat on her brow, the tanned and toned arms, the silver bracelet that circled her bicep. He had stood in almost this same spot just a few days ago and thought she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. He’d thought then that she had a face he could easily make a fool of himself over. Now he was sure of it, if the past ten minutes were any indication.
“Give me a pitcher of water, Rodney,” she said.
“And a glass for me,” Luke said.
Dusty cut a quick glance at him and fished in her pocket, pulling out a pick. “My high E string is about to break. I’ll have to restring before we go back on.” She took the pitcher of water from Rodney and poured a cup, then slid the pitcher over to him.
Her eyes met his over the rim of her cup. “What?”
He shrugged and poured his own cup. “Nothing. I just…”
“Expected me to chew you out for deviating from the song list?”
“Well… yeah.”
She thrust her lower lip out in a fake pout. “And you’re disappointed, too.”
“You could at least turn up your nose or something. Complete acceptance from you is kind of a let-down.”
“Sorry, Ace. The crowd liked it, and that’s what counts.”
“You enjoyed it, too. Admit it.”
She took another long drink of water and lifted her shoulder. “Like I said, the crowd enjoyed it, and that’s what matters to me. If I get to take you down a few notches in the process, so much the better.”
Luke laughed. “Take me down a few notches? You don’t honestly think you won that match, do you?”
“I think I wiped the floor with you, frankly.”
“You wish. If I weren’t such a gentleman, I would insist that I left you in my dust.”
She took another drink. “You poor, ignorant soul, stuck in the throes of denial.”
“Oh no. Those laughs you got? They were pity laughs.”
“I don’t think so. If anyone was pitiful, it was you.”
Luke laughed, and stepped aside when Becca and Corinne came up.
“No wonder you two make such a great couple. You’re exactly alike.” Corinne smiled and held out her hand. “You were incredible.”
Dusty shook it, and raised an eyebrow at Luke. “See. I was incredible.” She wiped perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Glad y’all are enjoying the show. I have to restring. You’re gonna stick around, aren’t you?”
Corinne said, “I don’t think I could drag Toby away if I had to. Cade is spending the night with his grandparents, so for the first time in six months we don’t have a curfew. We’ll be here until Rodney kicks us out.”
Luke watched Dusty make her way back to the stage, knowing that same idiot grin was plastered on his face. He turned to Becca and Corinne. “Now, is that a woman or is that a woman?”
“I always knew you had a knack for gender identification,” Corinne said. She turned to Becca. “I like her.”
“Me too. I’m not sure she feels the same about us, but I suppose that’s okay.”
“The question is, does she like Luke, since he’s apparently decided to fall in love with her.”
“I thought he was in love with the new girl at the Laundromat.”
“No, that was just a rumor.”
“What rumor?” Luke asked, his smile slipping.
“Toby said that this morning Luke said, Dusty was the one,” Corinne told Becca.
“They’re all the one at the moment.”
“No, he said –”
“Umm, girls, I’m right here,” Luke said over Becca’s shoulder.
“Just a sec,” Corinne said. She turned back to Becca. “He actually said, ‘I’ve met the girl I’m going to marry.’”
Becca gasped and staggered back a step. “You’ve got to be kidding. He actually said the ‘m’ word?”
“Hello?” Luke said. “Am I invisible or something?”
“That’s what Toby said. He said Luke came inside looking all dazed and said hell must have frozen over, because he’d met the girl he was going to marry.”
“I’m standing right here!” Luke stepped between them.
Becca leaned to see around him. “You know, it’s really not surprising when you think about it, though. What better person for him to finally say he’s serious about, than someone he can’t possibly have a long-term relationship with? She’s here for, what, two weeks? Of course she’s the one he would pick to say that about. She’s perfectly safe.”
“You have a point.” Corinne nodded.
“This is ridiculous.” Luke stepped back, his hands up. “Go ahead and peck over my personal life like a couple of old hens. I’ve got better things to do than stand here and be ignored.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.
“Okay.” Corinne said.
Luke kept his feet planted. “You have it all wrong, you know. That’s not the way it is, at all.”
“Of course it is,” Becca said. “You’re allergic to commitment, so you pick the one girl who won’t ask for one.”
“I’m not allergic to commitment. I’m just…”
“Deathly afraid of it?” Becca offered.
“Yeah. No!” He threw up his hands. “Never mind. I’m going back on stage now.”
“We’re sorry, Luke,” Corinne said, giving him a quick hug. “We care about you and want you to be happy. We’ve sat back and watched you date girl after girl and always avoid getting serious, so when you say something like that it really gets our attention. Did you mean it, when you said that to Toby?”
“Of course not.” Luke backed away, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was just joking around. No need to make a big deal of it.” As he made his way back through the crowd, he had the feeling he’d just backed down from an important challenge.
Had a part of him been serious, when he’d said that? He remembered the first time he saw Dusty, the feeling of being hit broadside – one minute his life had been perfectly ordinary, the next he’d seen her at the side of the road and everything had changed. The feeling of instant connection, familiarity on a level he’d never known. Then again just an hour ago behind the bar, he’d felt it again.
Until she’d mentally closed him off.
He tried not to be obvious as he studied her and retuned his guitar. She gave Stevie a pep talk and checked cords and switches. She glanced at him, briefly nodded, and turned away.
Luke gave a mental shrug, remembering this morning when he finally couldn’t take her blasé attitude anymore. Maybe this ‘connection’ he was so sure of was one-sided. If so, he was going to make a very big fool of himself by going around thinking – let alone saying out loud – that she was someone he could get serious about.
He continued to study her as they went into the second set and finished the night, waiting for that feeling again. Wondering if she would again close him off.
Luke watched as Dusty told the band goodnight and straightened up. Her cheeks were flushed, and she hummed softly as she wound cords and packed away her guitars. His gut tightened as he thought about the coming night.
He wanted to see her cheeks flushed for him. To see her eyes glaze over with passion, to see her lips red and swollen with his kiss. To see her breathless and moaning beneath him. To hear her crying out his name.
He helped her push an amp up against the wall. “You were dynamite.”
“We weren’t bad,” she said, but she smiled. That was probably as close as she
would ever come to accepting a compliment. “We need to tighten up on the western swing numbers. They were a little sloppy.”
Stevie had dropped one note in the three swing songs they played, and the rest had been letter perfect. But she had to add a critique, he knew, when she’d come so perilously close to being nice.
He nodded solemnly. “We’ll work on those extra hard in rehearsal tomorrow.”
She straightened and gave him a lopsided smile. “I’ve been called a taskmaster. Among other things.”
“You want the songs to be as good as possible. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, well…” She shrugged, and then said softly. “You were great. Really. You know how to work a crowd.”
He could be gracious and let it go, considering how difficult it was for her to say something complimentary.
But really, what were the odds that was going to happen?
He leaned forward and cupped his hand over his ear. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“You heard me. I hope you did, anyway, because I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.”
Luke laughed and grabbed her for a quick kiss. “I’ve been called a ham. Among other things.”
“Mama told me you were already cozied up to someone else.”
Luke looked up to see Melinda standing before them, one hand on her shot-out hip and her chin jutting out.
She looked so furious that he had to remind himself he hadn’t actually been caught doing anything wrong. He and Melinda had broken up weeks ago.
“Hi, Melinda.” He gave her a polite smile, and kept one hand on the small of Dusty’s back. “Did you have a nice visit with your sister?”
“Don’t stand there with that goofy grin and pretend like nothing’s going on here.” She narrowed her eyes at Dusty.
He took one step forward to put himself between Dusty and Melinda. “Nothing is going on here. You know we broke up. Remember? You called me an infantile idiot and said you hated me?”
“It turns out that we’re not as ‘broken up’ as you might like.” Her lips curved up in a smug, hateful smile.
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